The Unnamed But Awesome Genital Manoeuvre

Let me be completely explicit about this: the following is going to be completely explicit. I did not get this nom de plume on a whim while shopping around for a better one. The following text describes an act of wanton carnality, and I bet that's exactly what you were expecting from me.

The enclosed is one of my Favourite Things. It may seem silly or vague to have a category of ‘Favourite Things’ because of the simply infinite amount of actions that one can perform. But since its discovery, this particular action has resulted in many, many interesting times, and shit will get you sunshine that this situation will continue indefinitely. So I think I’ll keep it in its pleasant entirety, more or less exactly as described. Why it’s so favourite-y will be revealed shortly.

Everyone with half a brain and a pelvic anatomy diagram knows what a G-spot is. It’s a capricious bastard of a thing, sometimes hiding, sometimes subtle, but played properly always a trigger switch to a woman’s sexual consciousness. There are other triggers, but after extensive testing I can honestly say this one is the best and most reliable between subjects. It was named after a doctor called Grafenberg, a German fellow who liked to get his head into places that no German had gone before (or probably since).

(Believe it or not, in this age of infinite knowledge, there are still serious and thoroughly contentious debates about what the hell this G-spot thing is, and what it does, and how it works. Nowhere is the gender divide more obvious than in the hardcore research into sexuality. Another spot of super orgasmic potential which lies deep in the nervous tissue just above the cervix was properly documented for the first time in no earlier than 1998. It’s a scandalous, sexist shame. But I digress.)

For the unenlightened, the G-spot is one to three inches behind the pubic bone, at the top of the vaginal wall. That's an anatomical fact, so it's quite easy to find with a little practice. The problem is this: its responsiveness is dependent on specific levels of arousal. In other words, unlike a clitoris, if you touch it on a woman who isn’t aroused, probably not much will happen. You have to start the engine first before you stomp on the pedal, if you catch my drift.

Anyway, at the right time an errant finger will confirm the following – there is a certain nub of tissue in there, and when you find exactly where it is (which isn’t hard, run your finger right over the whole area) it will start to swell and change shape.

Then we’re cooking with gas. Get in there after it, until you notice two things:

1) The breathing pattern of the woman will change, become shorter and choppier.

2) Her back will start to arch backwards – pelvis up, hips down, head down.

(In an animal species, this position is lordosis – from the Greek lordos, bent backwards. It’s a universal mammalian sign of heavy-duty arousal. I’ve read research which states quite clinically that it does not happen in people. Of course, this is bullshit on a stick. It happens fine, although I’m pretty sure I couldn’t demonstrate it without wildly uncontrolled experimental conditions.)

In any case, we have our lordotic woman. Now, here’s the fun part. From the outside you can see your finger on the inside – it’ll raise a little bump in the skin near the top of her pubis mons. The tissue there isn’t very thick. Place your other hand over the bump, so the G-spot is between your finger inside and your palm outside.

Now, sink your palm slightly into the pelvis wall (i.e. push your palm heel down and forward), and pull your finger (on the inside) back at the same time you move your hand. The G-spot tissue is now right between your finger and your other hand.

Ignore the screams and the clawing and MASSAGE. FIRMLY. between your hands.

How firmly is up to you, and entirely dependent on how rough your consort likes it. Either way, when done with finesse you should witness something few men get to see up close: a big, powerful, genuine, sheet-ripping female orgasm. You may have your hand drenched. You may have sheets of your wallpaper ripped off. You may get sick of listening to the screams. You may be accidentally kicked in the face. You may wake up people in nearby apartments. Either way, everyone wins.

Enjoy.